


To the same old tired plain

by wildcursive



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Also don't expect much on the romance front at least for now, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Disabled Character, M/M, Non-Canonical Character Death, Really like a lot of it, Slow-burn-ish, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop, We are primarily here for the time-related shenanigans, and Essek bonding with all of the Nein, spoilers up to episode 84, though he is a bit in love with Caleb maybe okay yes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-01-29 09:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21408040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildcursive/pseuds/wildcursive
Summary: Essek witnesses the defeat of the Mighty Nein at the hands of Obann and his followers. When he wakes up to the morning of the group's return to Rosohna, he realizes that he only has until sundown to change the turn of events and prevent the their demise, while also stopping the followers of the Chained Oblivion on their quest to unleash the god upon Exandria.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 20
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first foray into the CR fandom, I'm excited and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> A few disclaimers before we begin, I know next to nothing about battle strategies and laying traps, and I'm going off of bad memory and frantic searches on the CR wiki and Critrolestats about everything in this story. It also hasn't been beta-ed, so apologies for any mistakes. The canon divergence tag is for the end of ep. 84. This story is compliant with everything before that, but assumes that the Nein were never attacked at the Invulnerable Vagrant.
> 
> With all that said, this trope is one of my favorites and I've been having a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading!
> 
> Title is a play on words with a line from Hozier's "No Plan", hopefully it will make sense.

There was blood running down from his hairline, clouding Essek's vision, and he was reaching to wipe it off his eyes when the scream came. He looked back towards the giant minotaur-like fiend that Obann had summoned, and saw it grabbing Jester with a clawed hand and slamming her into the ground. It picked her up again, the tiefling’s body hanging limp in its claws. It threw her into the ground once more for good measure and left her broken body lie in the crushed grass, neck bent at an unnatural angle.

Essek heard the Mighty Nein call out for their cleric, desperate shouts of her name coming from every direction around him. He thought that maybe he called out for her too. Beauregard, always the fastest of them, was already halfway across the battlefield to Jester's body when he looked up, and Essek was forced to watch as the two enchanted daggers he knew belonged to the Caedogeist flew through the air and stuck themselves in her neck and back, stopping her mid-run.

In the meantime, the giant fiend had moved over to where Caleb and Caduceus were standing in the backline, just a few dozen feet from Essek's own position. He tried to stop it with a blast of force that would have left a lesser creature scattered into dust, but the fiend just staggered momentarily and resumed its path. It reached past Caduceus, who was standing a few paces ahead to Caleb's left, and grabbed the human, lifting him high into the air. At a height of twenty-something feet itself, it had Caleb up almost at eye level. With its giant claw engulfing the wizard's entire torso, it looked like a child holding a toy.

"Essek," he heard Caduceus call out and directed his eyes back to the ground in time to see the firbolg throw something towards him, recognizing it with shock as a Beacon of the Luxon. Where had the Nein found it? Why had they not informed the Bright Queen about it earlier?

He reached out at the last moment and caught it in his bloodied hands.

In the distance, Fjord was cornered by Yasha, who the Nein had been reluctant to attack so far, still believing her to be their friend. Right now there was nothing friendly in her tight grip on her blade or in the way she violently swung it at the warlock. Next to the two of them, Nott lay unconscious near the corpse of the Laughing Hand. 

Floating high into the air above them, Obann was laughing.

"Essek, this is our last hope," Caduceus called out again, voice filled with urgency.

An agonized cry and a sickening crack came from above them. Essek recognized Caleb’s voice. Then, with a horrible thud, the wizard’s body landed a few steps ahead, lifeless eyes looking right towards him. 

Essek let out a desperate, wordless shout, fingers tightening around the Beacon. What was he to do with it? He needed time, he needed to stop all of this.

With a whispered prayer to the Luxon, he dropped the levitation spell that eased his movement. As his feet hit the ground, aching and barely able to support his weight, Essek focused all of his power into the most demanding spell he knew, and attempted to stop the flow of time itself. 

The sounds of the battlefield cut off as the spell started to take, but he could not feel the familiar electric spark in his body that meant that he was now the only one moving as the rest of the world stood still. Instead, there was a strange but familiar tightness in his chest that he could not place yet. The Beacon in his hands was now glowing in bright white. The light started expanding outwards, forcing Essek to drop the relic and shield his eyes. The tightness in his chest turned into a twisting, sickening feeling, as if his lungs were trying to rearrange themselves, as the light engulfed him whole.

* * *

Essek woke up with a start. A quick look around in the darkness told him he was in his own chambers. According to the clock on the wall, the time was just under two hours before what would be considered sunrise, if the sun ever rose in Rosohna. Had it all been a nightmare? He did not just remember fighting in a battle, he could recall the events of the whole day that had led to it.

The Mighty Nein had returned to Rosohna in the early hours of the morning, having contacted the Bright Queen directly, and an emergency meeting had been called at the Lucid Bastion. They had brought information about the fiend Obann and his cult's true purpose as followers of the Chained Oblivion, likely seeking to free the god from his bindings. There were explanations about abyssal anchors and the barrier between the planes weakening, and a place at the border with the Barbed Fields, where an anchor could cause a catastrophic tear, opening access to Tharizdun’s prison. The Queen had ordered Essek to help with the capture of Obann and his accomplices: the aberration known as the Laughing Hand, the newly resurrected Caedogeist, and the Mighty Nein's friend Yasha, who was still under the fiend's control. Then the catastrophic battle had taken place, he had been given a Beacon of the Luxon, and here he was now.

Essek contemplated the dream for the next several minutes, it had been too lucid, too detailed. True, he could admit to himself (and only himself) that he had dreamt of the Nein somewhat regularly over the past month, as more and more days passed without any messages from Jester drilling into his mind at the most inopportune moments. He was the Shadowhand of the Dynasty, so of course the lack of interruptions during his numerous duties throughout the day was welcome. But there had been no word from the group for over a month now and he was not feeling at ease, what with the fiend Obann still at large and gathering allies of legendary power. The threat Obann posed was the only reason for his worry, of course, not any concern about the ragtag group of incompetent adventurers who liked to use him as personal transport and who were currently Obann's sole opposition.

Deciding that he would not be able to go back to sleep, Essek lifted the covers and swung his feet to the side of the bed, using his arms for assistance to make the movement less painful. He reached for the arcane focus sitting on the nightstand and cast the spell that allowed him freedom of movement before putting on a robe and going to wake up his servant Talan. 

There was a sinking feeling settling deep within his stomach as he returned to his room. Essek tried to ignore it in favor of picking accessories for his chosen outfit from his expansive collection of jewelry.

He was nearly finished with the selection, taking his time with the knowledge that he would only be expected to report at the Lucid Bastion in over an hour and a half, when there was a knock at his door.

"Yes?" he called in response. It was too early for Talan to be finished with breakfast preparations.

"Urgent missive from the Bright Queen, Shadowhand." There was badly concealed curiosity in Talan’s tone.

No.

Essek knew this tone of voice. He had heard the exact same sentence said in it recently. Could it be? He called the man in.

Talan entered, carrying a parchment bearing the Queen's seal, and passed it to Essek with both hands, his head bowed. Essek unrolled it, noticing his own hands were shaking. He knew what the message inside would say.

> _ Meeting called in full confidence after the return of the Empire envoys. _
> 
> _ Shadowhand's presence expected urgently. _
> 
> _ Report to the Lucid Bastion within the next quarter of an hour. _

The message was written in the hand of the Queen’s personal scribe and ended with the present date, the 20th of Thunsheer. It was the fortieth day since the Mighty Nein had last been in Rosohna. It was the day Essek had just somehow lived through, the day when the group would be defeated in battle by Obann and his followers.

Essek left the parchment drop and roll itself back up on his vanity, trying not to let his apprehension show as he turned back to his attendant.

"That will be all, Talan. Thank you."

The servant left with a nod of his head. As soon as the door shut, Essek took the rolled up parchment again and let himself crumple it in a fist, feeling the bite of the paper against his palm before conjuring a spark to turn it to ash.

* * *

The meeting at the Lucid Bastion was half a blur. The threads of conversation kept escaping him, as Essek found himself dwelling on the fact that he had already heard all of this information. He knew about Obann and the Barbed Fields, about the Nein’s research in Rexxentrum, where they had uncovered the information about Tharizdun’s prison. Where they probably had also found the fourth Beacon.

“Are you in a hurry to leave for somewhere, boy?” the Skysybil’s hoarse voice interrupted his reverie. 

Essek looked around to find everyone’s eyes more or less on him and realized he was leaning too far forward in his chair, hands gripping its armrests so tightly that his fingers were aching.

With an embarrassed cough, he turned to the Queen, bowing his head.

“My apologies, Majesty.”

She accepted his apology with a gentle half-nod and motioned for the discussion to continue. 

How was this happening? Had his recent dunamantic experiments triggered some side effect that had allowed him to see into the future?

Those were questions for later. For now he knew that the Mighty Nein would die on this day if he did nothing to prevent it. So Essek waited for the meeting to conclude and for the Queen to send him off to assist them.

* * *

The group seemed to be aware of the gravity of the situation but had not allowed it to impede their usual antics, just as Essek remembered. He used the walk to the Nein's den to formulate a course of action. 

They were not well inclined to allow him to do so.

“Essek,” Jester called, slowing her pace to walk next to him where he was trailing behind the group. “You seem weird this morning, what’s up?”

“Surely you realize the earliness of the hour, Jester,” he responded, avoiding looking her in the eye.

She seemed to scrutinize him for a short while, but then relented.

“Okay, but if you’re sad or something I can tell you about my dog back home to cheer you up. He lives with my momma and-”

Essek knew, he had already heard the tiefling’s attempts to convince the party of all the advantages of having the teleporting dog travelling with them.

"No, I do not need to hear about Nugget," he responded curtly, trying to end the conversation.

“Wait, how do you know his name, Essek? When did I tell you about him? I don't even remember,” a sly smile slowly spread across her face. “You must like me a lot if you remember all of these details about me, Esseeek!” With every utterance of his name she seemed to be adding more syllables to it.

Essek realized his mistake. He had heard about the dog while walking the exact same path with the Mighty Nein, on the way to their den… yesterday? Today?

He opened his mouth to dissuade Jester of any notions she had about him liking her, but she interrupted him with a gasp.

“Oh! But did we show you how cute he is! Fjord, show him!" She turned to the warlock who used a simple illusion spell to make an image of the dog appear at their feet.

Essek vaguely nodded his assent. At least now he had a surefire way to convince the Mighty Nein to trust in his… knowledge of future events, whatever its source was. He simply needed a piece of information about them, which he would otherwise have no way of knowing. And he had just the thing.

* * *

The so called Xhorhaus soon appeared at the end of the street in front of them. The Nein immediately started going their separate ways inside, ready to collect supplies and leave for the Barbed Fields as soon as possible. Their supposed attendant was once again nowhere to be seen. He made a note to include in his reports later. 

"Mighty Nein," Essek called, stopping them in their tracks. "There is a matter we need to discuss."

“Are you sure it can't wait for when we get there Essek?” Beauregard answered. “I know you will teleport us, but for all we know Obann could already be there.“

“I know Beauregard, this is what I wish to discuss. I know that if I teleport you to the place on the outskirts of the Barbed Fields you tell me about, we will spend half the day scouring the region fruitlessly until sometime near sundown, when we will encounter Obann and his followers, including your aasimar friend. I know that Obann will surprise us by summoning an enormous fiend, which will be too much for us to take. I know that I will see most of you die,” he took a steadying breath, feeling everyone's eyes on him.

“I know all these things will happen like I knew why I was called to an urgent meeting this morning before I read the Queen's message and like I knew what the information you relayed would be.” 

He looked around apprehensively and finally turned to Caleb. The wizard's expression when Essek caught his eye was unreadable, but the mask dropped when he continued. “I know this will happen like I know that you found another Beacon of the Luxon and carried it in and out of the Lucid Bastion, right under the Bright Queen's nose.”

Chaos erupted. Nott and Jester immediately started attacking him with questions. Beauregard began pacing nervously. Caduceus left the room as quietly as a being of his size could. Essek looked back towards Caleb who had opened his bag and produced the Beacon he remembered. The wizard held his gaze for the next several moments as he approached and handed it to him, their fingers touching at the exchange. The contact would have been welcome, exciting even, under different circumstances, but Essek barely noticed it, fully mesmerized by the relic now that he could take his time with it. His previous experience of this day excluded, he had never held one of the Beacons of the Luxon in his own hands. Such honor was only bestowed upon the Queen herself and the umavi keepers, who oversaw the consecutions. Its surface was cold against his fingers, but there was an inexplicable feeling of warmth as Essek held it. Despite the chaos around him and the grim future that expected him and his… associates at the end of the day, right at this moment he felt at peace in a way he had not experienced in decades.

In the background, Fjord had convinced Beauregard to calm down and Caduceus returned with a pot of tea, managing to pause Jester and Nott’s stream of questioning. With a cup of tea forced into everyone’s hands and the Beacon back in Caleb’s bags for safekeeping, the questions became more constructive. 

To Essek’s surprise, no one seemed to be doubting him. The Nein had just accepted his account of events, trying to get at each tiny detail he might have missed. He tried to look around the room, anywhere but their faces, as he was finally forced to recount the ways they were killed. Each of them seemed more concerned about the others’ demise than about their own and Essek felt out of place, intruding on this den mourning each other. 

“Then it’s obvious what we have to do, isn’t it?” Beauregard finally said with badly concealed anger. “We restrain Obann first so he can’t summon his giant monster thing, then we restrain Yasha so she can’t fight us. The Laughing Hand is as good as dead, so we just have the Caedogeist to worry about. And we have Fjord’s sword to help us track her when she disappears,” she had risen to her feet and only the half-orc’s hand on her arm and Jester’s touch to her thigh had stopped her from resuming her frustrating pacing. 

“Right?” she looked around.

“I do believe I will be able to transport us directly to the place of the confrontation,” Essek responded. “That should save us half the day for planning.”

“We could set a trap, prepare an ambush,” Nott chimed in with a smile full of too many sharp teeth. Essek had already noticed the floral motives around her eyes when the Nein first arrived, but now he saw them glinting in an unmistakably magical way, lending even more threat to the goblin’s words. 

And so the preparations began. Essek took a moment to visualize the dry grass that had yielded under the giant fiend’s hooves and the peculiar outcropping of feeble trees that Fjord had been cornered against, focusing on the border of the Barbed Fields, before he uttered the incantation for the teleportation spell.

He was reasonably certain the spell had been a complete success as the dry morning air entered his lungs and the light of the rising sun irritated his eyes. Right, this was a crucial detail of the plan, Essek himself was at a large disadvantage on this field, away from the comforting darkness of Rosohna in a fight happening at daytime. The sky was spotted with clouds, so he would have respite when they passed over the sun, but the odds were not in his favor. The light had been an obstacle for him throughout the battle with Obann, he remembered. He turned his back to the offending celestial body and joined the Nein in their discussion on the possible traps they could set.

* * *

Several hours later, Essek had gotten an insight on the Nein’s chaotic manner of planning, but a course of action had somewhat been set. Fjord was about to summon a fiend of his own, which would help restrain Obann. He was also prepared to counter any summoning spell at the first sign of its casting, along with Caleb and Essek himself. Nott and Beauregard had almost finished setting a modified tree spring trap near the place Essek remembered Yasha standing, hoping that it would restrain her at least temporarily and give the two of them a chance to neutralize her. Jester was helping them with the bending of the thick tree branches. What muscles was the cleric hiding underneath her flowy dress?

Even with Essek’s premonition, there was no way to be certain this plan would succeed. He wished he had more knowledge of the types of demon containment or the ways to dispel mind control. He took a moment to admonish himself for his ignorance on the former. Considering his duties at the Dungeons of Penance, he should have been familiar with the means used to imprison demons, regardless of the fact that there had not yet been an occasion to rely on them during his time as Shadowhand. 

* * *

The sun was going ever down in the sky, almost at the position it had been in during their battle. About a quarter hour ago Caleb had cast his impenetrable dome, camouflaging it as part of a patch of large rocks several dozen feet from the battlefield, and now they all sat huddled within it. Another twenty minutes and, on Caleb’s signal, Fjord and Nott exited the dome. Essek watched with fascination as the Warlock summoned his sword. He focused on the blade for a moment. He had noticed the drastic change that had occurred in it soon before the Nein’s excursion to the Lotusden and had thought that he needed to inquire about this change, keep the Dynasty informed on the group’s growing powers. Another failure in his Shadowhand duties he would amend if they survived this day.

Fjord turned his head towards the sky, pointing ahead with the hand holding his blade. His eyes rolled back into his head as he began chanting in guttural tones. At the place where he pointed, a large, seven or eight foot-tall ape-like creature materialized. It tried to growl menacingly, but a single look from the warlock silenced it and he turned to nod at Nott. She approached the creature carefully and Essek saw the familiar motions of a lesser invisibility spell, before the summoned demon disappeared from his vision. They were ready.

It was only a few minutes later, with everyone back inside the dome, that they heard someone approaching. Essek’s heart started hammering in his chest as the sound got closer. The whole group was holding their breath for the right moment to spring the trap.

Fjord turned towards him, eyes wide. His lips formed a soundless "When?"

Essek looked around, all eyes were on him. They thought he would know! But this was not part of his… whatever it was. He couldn’t-

A crack sounded in the distance, a dry branch snapping under a heavy foot.

“Now,” he breathed.

The Mighty Nein burst out of the dome like a tidal wave. Fjord uttered a phrase in the same guttural notes he had used in the summoning and they all watched as large footprints appeared into the grass, moving towards the other side of the field where they could see the four ominous forms of Obann’s cult. The ape-like fiend appeared in the next moment, its back towards the group. With another command from Fjord it made a half turn, showing them where it was clutching Obann in its giant arms, his own pinned to his sides. He was struggling in the creature’s hold, but it was not budging.

The Laughing Hand let out a growl and turned to assist his master, while the Caedogeist disappeared from sight, as if absorbed by the earth. Fjord’s sword lit up in answer and he brought his other hand forward to point them to her location as he called.

“I see her moving!”

Yasha, who was standing to the right of Obann, had sidestepped to her left and was unsheathing her sword as two of Nott’s arrows flew past her, making her take another few steps away from her master and the other demon holding him. _ Genius little goblin _, Essek thought as he saw the second step land Yasha’s foot on the trigger of the tree spring trap. With a sharp crack, the tree branch on the other side released and the rope tightened around Yasha's leg dragging her far back enough to make her lose balance and fall flat on her stomach. Beauregard was already running towards her, while Caleb summoned his giant cat claw and sent it in her direction.

Essek looked towards Jester. Now was their turn. With a melodic chant the tiefling unleashed a powerful blast of radiance, which hit the Laughing Hand in the middle of the chest. Already prepared, Essek released his own concentrated wave of force and watched with satisfaction as it slammed into the creature’s torso, reducing him to millions of ashy particles upon impact. Several whoops came from the other members of the Nein. One down, three to go.

“Thank you for ridding me of that dead weight,” Obann called, voice still haughty despite his current predicament. “This allows me to call a much more useful friend without the Hand feeling jealous over it.” And he started chanting.

This was the summoning spell! Essek focused his gaze on the fiend and began performing the motions of the spell to interrupt his casting. He had not realized that sometime while the Nein were waiting inside the dome a cloud had obscured the sun; a cloud, which had now passed and, in the split second of Essek’s casting, allowed the low-hanging sun’s rays to blind him. The counterspell failed and Essek cursed under his breath. At least he had back-up.

Twin shouts of desperation sounded from his right. Both Fjord and Caleb sounded frustrated, neither of them had managed to stop the summoning. Essek turned to look past them, they had planned for this eventuality too. What was Caduceus-

Furthest in the back and alone, Caduceus had just opened his mouth and a thin line of blood was streaming down from its side. His torso was tilted forward and behind him the image of the Caedogeist flashed for an instant before disappearing again.

“NO!” Fjord shouted, horror in his eyes. They had lost track of her for just a moment while trying to stop Obann’s casting, but it had been just long enough.

Caduceus’ body contracted as the daggers impaled in his back were pulled out, and he crumpled to the ground. Fjord took off after the assassin, sending bolts of green energy after her. Essek did not stay to watch whether they made impact. As Jester ran back to try and stabilize Caduceus, he turned back to Obann, who was now hidden from view by the same giant fiend Essek remembered. This time it first leaned towards its master and rid him of the comparatively small demon that was restraining him. The ape screamed in pain as it held it aloft and pulled an arm clean off its torso in a show of raw primal strength. Before it could do the same thing to its other appendage, the lesser demon screamed once more and disappeared in a flash of flame.

In the meantime, Yasha had somehow managed to evade the grasp of Caleb’s spell and was locked in combat with Beauregard. The monk was managing to dodge her swings, but focusing on them left her unprepared for the giant hoofed kick to her side, which sent her careening at least 20 feet through the air. Essek saw Yasha run towards where Beauregard had landed before he focused on the giant demon who was now advancing towards the rest of the party. 

He knew now that his damaging spells would not do much on their own, so he focused on his true specialty – gravity. He concentrated on the areas around the creature’s legs and attempted to compress the gravitational field there to impede its movement. The demon immediately fought against the pressure, growling with the pain of it and Essek felt what little grip he had on it ready to slip. He dropped the telekinetic spell that he used for ease of movement and redirected all of his power to subduing the resisting creature. The spell held and in the next moment he felt the resistance subside slightly. 

He looked up to see the familiar cat claw, positively tiny in comparison, sitting at the center of the creature’s chest, managing to hold it back. Several of Nott’s crossbow bolts were sticking around it. 

To his right Caleb shot him a pained, but hopeful look.

They held the beast in place for what seemed like a small eternity, eyes still locked. And then, right in front of his eyes, a blast of dark necrotic energy hit Caleb square in the chest, making him lose focus on the spell and distracting Essek himself, as he watched the other wizard collapse to the ground, dark veins appearing over his arms and neck. Somewhere nearby he heard Jester’s horrified shout.

“BEAU, NO!”

When he took his eyes off Caleb to look towards the place the monk had landed, Essek saw Yasha pulling her blade from where it was stuck vertically, seemingly into the ground, but he could make out the dark blue of Beauregard’s attire through the dry grass.

“Essek,” Caleb called weakly.

Essek tried to move towards him as fast as he could, but his feet gave out under him and he dropped to his knees, crawling over the last several feet that were separating them, each movement agonizing. Caleb had opened his bag and was pulling the Beacon out from inside it. Their fingers touched again as he passed it to Essek for the second time that day, but this time Caleb moved his hand to cover one of Essek’s own and grasp it tightly.

“This is our only hope now,” each word sounded stilted and painful. “You are, Essek.”

On his knees, with both his and Caleb's hands over the Beacon and the form of the giant fiend casting a shadow over them, Essek focused on the spell he remembered using and attempted to stop time. The Beacon started glowing in the same bright white, and this time before the light could engulf him fully he managed to identify the violent twisting inside his chest. 

Time was not stopping. 

It was being reversed on a scale that he had never experienced before.

* * *

Essek woke up with a start in the darkness of his own room. The clock on the wall showed the time was one hour and fifty-four minutes before sunrise. Throwing off the covers, he cast Telekinesis and practically threw himself against the closed door of the room in his hurry. Throwing it open with a slam he shouted for his attendant.

“Talan! What is the date today?”

“Shadowhand?” the voice coming from the attendant’s room at the end of the hallway was muffled and confused. It cleared with a cough, “It is the 20th of Thunsheer, Shadowhand.”

Essek closed the door with slightly more care than he had used to open it and rested his forehead against its cold surface, hand shaking against the doorknob.

It was going to be a long day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, I am used to writing whole fics that are shorter than this single chapter. Please, let me know what you thought about it! You can also find me on tumblr [@aro-hawke](http://aro-hawke.tumblr.com/) for any general Critical Role-related yelling purposes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Essek gets into the loop and steals some books. Jester paints minis. The stakes are raised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for the kind response to the first chapter of this weird venture. This one took a bit longer to post than I'd have liked, so thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy.  
  
As an additional note, I am not physically disabled myself, so if you think anything in the way I write Essek's disability is disrespectful or ableist, please let me know so I can correct it.

“Should I begin with breakfast preparations, Shadowhand?” Talan called from the hall just a minute later, as Essek was hurriedly affixing his cloak and straightening out his robes.

His hands were still shaking. 

“No need,” he responded, turning sideways to check for any imperfections in his outfit in the large ornate mirror against the wall. “I shall be leaving promptly.” 

Essek was well aware that he would be drawing looks today, and not good-natured ones. His hair was hurriedly combed back and he was forgoing any prominent jewelry (except for his rings that felt nigh obligatory). His usually heavily ornamented mantle, which would take much more time to adjust properly over his robes, was exchanged for the simplest one he owned that still covered the bare minimum for the official attire of his post. 

“Should I make any other preparations, Shadowhand?” His attendant sounded concerned. Essek understood, the man had never experienced him deviating so radically from his strict routine unless there was an emergency related to the war effort. 

“No. In fact, take the rest of the day off,” he called in response, waiting to hear the man retreating back to his chambers, hands playing with the hem of his cloak. 

At last he thought he heard the quiet click of the door at the end of the hallway and allowed himself to utter the incantation for his teleportation spell.

* * *

The Marble Tomes Conservatory was a place that for Essek inspired as much reverence as the Queen’s Cathedral itself. This early in the morning its grandeur was amplified by the lack of occupants and the silence reigning over the marble arcs. During these quiet hours the Conservatory relied on arcane security measures more than on the forces of the Aurora Watch. Thankfully, Essek’s station allowed him to bypass both on the way to his current destination. 

Presently, there was only a single dozing guard stationed at the entrance, who startled to attention at the Shadowhand’s appearance, bowing deeply in greeting, and likely apology for their moment of inattention. Essek returned the greeting with a half nod, anxiety making his chest tighten. Here he was, at the place of highest learning in all of Xhorhas, ready to commit an act that he would otherwise refuse to consider even on his worst day. 

He glided through the main hall, turning toward the right hallway and descending the staircase that opened next to it instead of continuing forward. The spacious circular underground hall that opened below housed the Dynasty’s records on occult matters. While not one that he visited often, this was a part of the Conservatory that Essek was sufficiently familiar with. 

He looked towards the ornate desk assigned to the curator, set against the wall on his right. It was currently occupied by the archivist tending to this section - an elderly drow woman named Seterisz, who Essek was familiar with, but with whom he had never exchanged anything more than the common courtesies. She was sitting with her head propped up on both hands, elbows resting on the desk. A thick tome bound in purple leather sat open between her elbows and she seemed at least partly in trance. _ Good _, Essek thought, the fewer traces left of his presence that there were, the more time he would have before his crime was discovered. Quietly passing by the dozing archivist, he made his way to the shelves furthest away from the entrance, which he remembered to house the tomes he would need.

* * *

Considering its origins, the Dynasty had a sufficiently adequate collection of literature dedicated to the taxonomy of the denizens of the Abyss and the means to deal with them. The latter at least was straightforward, the literature on binding and containment was much more narrow, so Essek firstly retrieved two tomes he remembered from some of his early general studies as the ones that were most practically-oriented.

Leaving them both floating at eye level with a minor gravitational manipulation, Essek then turned to the shelves dedicated to demon classification. This would probably be easier if he woke up the archivist, he thought, looking at the collection of tomes upon tomes. He took out several books at random, finding them to contain information on winged, quadrupedal, and on certain types of creatures he was not even sure about the anatomy of. Eventually, several minutes later he stumbled upon a hefty volume with a section on bipedal brute-like creatures. Throwing a look behind himself, he saw the curator had not been disturbed by his perusing. He had no inclination of the exact time, but knew there wasn’t much left until the arrival of the Bright Queen’s missive at 44 minutes past the hour, which he needed to intercept. 

With a deep breath, Essek flicked his wrist, sending the book he was holding into the pocket dimension he used for storage of his spellbook and arcane components. Gingerly taking the other two from where they were floating, he cast them in there as well. Their absence would likely only be noticed at least several hours into the day proper, when Essek was no longer in Rosohna, but he still felt his chest tighten with panic. By taking books that were not supposed to leave the premises of the Conservatory, he had likely just ended his career as Shadowhand, and permanently, if he did not manage to reset the events of the day. 

He glided past the curator and the dozing guard and headed back towards the Lucid Bastion through the dark streets of the Firmaments.

* * *

The demon was apparently a goristro, but Essek found with frustration that the book contained just a single page of mostly second-hand information on its nature and capabilities. It apparently had no inherent magical ability and below average intelligence, but its raw strength under the command of a master such as Obann made it a lethal enemy. 

Essek closed the book with frustration and turned to the other two he had… _ stolen_. Just thinking of the word made his insides contort. Hopefully the information in them would be worthwhile for the crime he committed to acquire them.

It most decidedly was not.

While the two books offered much more to go on in volume of information than what he had found on the goristro, there was nothing in them that he could actually use. He had numerous options when it came to elaborate demon summonings and imprisonments, or rituals meant to harness raw demonic power, but all of them required multiple experienced casters and much more time to prepare and execute than Essek had in his current predicament. 

* * *

That afternoon, he tried setting up a simple arcane circle, supposed to prevent the person who entered it from being able to cast any spells outside of its radius. He watched with trepidation, hoping the position was right, and let out a breath of relief as he saw the faint flash of the glyphs lighting up under Obann’s feet. 

And then he watched the fiend seamlessly execute the summoning anyway, the materializing shape of the goristro obscuring him from Essek’s view in the next moment. 

* * *

They tried restraining Obann through a variety of means, they tried casting a field of silence to prevent his incantation, they tried to dominate his will in the same way he was supposedly commanding Yasha. When none of the attempts to stop the occurrence of the ritual worked, they tried throwing everything they had at him the moment he appeared, intent on killing him before he could start chanting. They amplified spells, used magic items, potions, and even Nott’s explosives, while Essek subtly manipulated the weave of Fate to give them second chances where they failed, and threw the strongest spells he dared, even resorting to the use of an Echo. Still, he never risked using his powers at their limit, for fear of not having enough left over to pour into the Beacon and try again. 

* * *

It had been… seven attempts so far? Maybe eight... Certainly less than ten. He was starting to lose count. 

_ And hope, _a tiny voice at the back of his mind added. 

Essek had tried everything he could think of to prevent the goristro’s appearance. By the Luxon’s Light, he had even stooped as low as to lie to the Nein about his previous attempts and send them to their deaths unnecessarily, just because he had been so confident that changing the order of a few attacks would make Beauregard’s stunning strikes land and immobilize the fiend. The Nein had followed his lead unquestioningly, not even Caduceus, whose insightful gaze had always concerned Essek, doubting his word. 

Essek looked around the chamber at all of them now, sitting tensely in their chairs, delivering their report to the Bright Queen. Guilt pooled deep in his stomach. Here was this group of people, heroes to the Dynasty, and he was using them as tools in his plans, sending them to their deaths each afternoon. But that was the will of the Luxon, no? He had been allowed to tap directly into the power of Their remains like no one else, likely not even the Bright Queen herself ever had. He was steadily untangling the workings of the strange suspension of time he was in, and it was already crystal clear that everything in the world was working in a certain order that only he could disrupt. Each motion of his was bound to cause the exact same ripple every time, unless he kept introducing new elements to the equation, new responses to the already established outcomes. What was he to do besides keep on trying and strategizing, and planning, until he managed to tailor the sequence of events perfectly down to the moment, so that it would result in the defeat of Obann’s cult. 

Essek was the only dynamic element in this constant static loop, but even he was currently stuck. He was starting to believe now that there was no way to stop Obann from summoning the goristro. It appeared that whatever the fiend was doing was less spellcasting and more reliant on an innate connection with the demon, because none of the means to stop a spell that Essek knew of had had any effect. If the summoning was set to happen, he needed to work on changing the events after it. 

Again, Essek wished that the book he’d stolen had had at least a smidgen more of information on the demon. 

* * *

“Fuck,” Beauregard shouted. “It’s not vulne-” there was a pause as she dropped to the ground to dodge one of the goristro’s enormous hooves swinging towards her. “It’s not vulnerable to anything Essek!” 

After disclosing his new plan regarding the goristro and admitting his failure to obtain reliable written information on it with the Mighty Nein, Essek had, startlingly, found the solution to his problem in Beauregard. More precisely, in the monk’s ability to extract information about her enemies while fighting them. Consequently, for the first time that he was living this day - whichever one in number that it was, probably the dozenth - he had gone into the battle with Obann without the explicit intention to see it to the end. What he needed now was information and he planned to get it and use the Beacon before any of the Nein were struck down.

“Shit-fuck-SHIT, its hide is so thick, dude! No regular weapon is gonna pierce this.” 

Essek watched Beauregard dodge one of the goristro’s claws, then vertically run up its leg as if gravity was no concern of hers, and land two hits against its flank with her fists, sparks traveling up and down her gloved hands. 

“Lightning isn’t working well,” she called, jumping back to the ground and landing in a crouch. 

The creature kept swinging at her, seemingly ignoring the piercing bolts of fire that Caleb was throwing and Essek’s own attempts at slowing it down. At least the others were doing a good job of keeping Obann, Yasha, and the Caedogeist occupied. 

“Caleb, your fire isn't very effective either,” she continued, standing up and turning her head slightly backwards to look towards where the wizard was standing near Essek himself. “Actually, just avoid anything related to temperature extremes, that fur protects from both heat and-”

The claw came swinging again and Beauregard’s momentary distraction was enough for its sharp points to connect with her torso. The rest of her sentence cut off with a pained cry as the goristro swung and caught her with its other hand.

Essek turned around so he wouldn’t have to watch her die again and procured the Beacon.

* * *

When the day reset, he rushed directly back to the Conservatory. There had to be more information on the monster hidden somewhere. Or a way to bind the goristro to his will, or even to just release it from Obann’s…

The books on summoning and binding, with their lengthy impossible rituals stayed in the periphery of his vision, as if mocking him.

In the afternoon he instructed the Nein to unleash everything at their disposal on the goristro instead of on its master, discouraging them from the elements Beauregard had found weak. He almost died to the blades of the Caedogeist, who, while everyone’s focus was aimed at the giant demon, was sowing chaos undisturbed.

* * *

  
  


Essek woke up, his hands immediately flying to his abdomen, to the place where he had been pierced. There was no blood on his nightshirt and the skin underneath was smooth. 

He ran a hand down his face, breathing heavily. He needed to think, needed time. How ironic was that now, when he technically had all the time in the world conserved within this single day. Or within the fourteen hours and about eleven minutes he got of it anyways. 

No, what he needed was a change of pace. 

* * *

"YOU WANT TO JUST LET THEM WIN?! WITHOUT A FIGHT?" Nott yelled as Essek tried to take a calm sip of his tea. He had not yet found a way to stop chaos from erupting when he revealed his current predicament to the Mighty Nein and today he had not waited for them to calm down in order to share his latest plan.

"I simply wish to test my limits in this situation," he responded in his most diplomatic tone.

What he truly needed was to stop and re-examine his options with a clear head, but finding out how long he could stretch the present day was critical information he should have probably considered sooner than now.

"Sure," Beauregard responded as Fjord caught Nott around the shoulders and pulled her back from where she was almost up in Essek’s face. The monk sounded surprisingly non-confrontational. "But what if you can’t do the loop thing unless we go there and we end up stuck with this shitty outcome, cause we didn't do anything?"

"Yeah," Nott chimed in weakly from where Fjord had pushed her back down onto a chair.

Essek took another sip of tea.

"I am completely certain that the Beacon you brought is the key to the repeating of today and so far I have always been the one to trigger the reset by channeling one of my strongest spells into it. I have also managed to do it with a few minutes difference so far, so I believe this will work." 

What he had done had been asking Caleb, when the other wizard had still been alive at that point of the battle, to tell him what the exact time was as he activated the Beacon, while the man’s friends died all around them. 

“In addition, I think I require a new approach. Everything I have tried in order to stop the summoning or defeat the goristro has failed.”

“What about banishing it?” Jester chimed in.

Essek froze. 

Of course. Lolth take him, he had been a fool! How had he not already thought of such a simple approach? True, the spell was not one that he had in his arsenal, and there was a chance the creature would be able to resist it, but it was simple and common enough among spellcasters of all sorts. 

“Look at his face,” Beauregard responded, frustration entering her voice. “Apparently none of us thought of that in all the loops he’s been through. We need to stop fucking around, guys.” 

Why was she blaming the others? Did the Nein not understand that everything depended on Essek and nothing was in their own hands? He opened his mouth to protest, unsure of what to say. Even after over a dozen attempts at this single interaction with them, the Nein’s responses still managed to surprise and mistify Essek. 

“I think Essek’s right,” the monk continued instead. “Today we stay here and plan, and he sees how much this day can be prolonged before everything goes to shit.”

Everyone muttered their assent. Caduceus and Jester went off to different parts of the house, the tiefling saying something about battle maps that he could not understand, while Essek was to be escorted by the rest of the Nein to their makeshift war room on the second floor. 

He willed himself to float up the stairs, suddenly restless and eager to try the banishment now that his eyes had been opened to the possibility. It would have to wait until the next version of this day. Now was his chance to build up on that new step, even if he could not be certain if it was in the right direction. 

Jester rejoined them quickly, to Essek’s surprise carrying what looked like two different sets of paints and some parchment. Without anyone else from the group objecting, she settled at the far left corner from where Essek was standing, and started painting with the first set right onto the antique wood of the table that they had all gathered around. Nott and Beauregard immediately crowded around her to watch. Essek felt his face contorting, unable to hide his displeasure. Was this how they treated the place that had so graciously been offered to them by the Dynasty? 

_ By Den Thelyss, _ the voice at the back of his mind supplied. Was this how much the Nein treasured their alliance with his den? _ With him? _

He was about to protest audibly before he felt Fjord, who was standing on his other side, turn to him, clearing his throat.

“So Essek, I wanted to ask,” he started. His expression looked cautious, as if he was hoping not to offend and Essek was already dreading what the following question might be. 

“Would it not be prudent to inform the Bright Queen of your current predicament and ask for her help," a pause. "I mean, for more firepower, considering everything you have told us so far about our shortcomings in the fight?" 

"Are you doubting my allegiance to the Dynasty, Fjord?" he responded, not actually taking offense, but knowing that was the reaction that the warlock had been dreading. The squirm it resulted in was amusing.

"No, no, in the name of the Wildmother, I-"

"I do not think our guest truly took offense, Fjord," came Caleb's voice from across the table and Essek turned his head to see the other wizard sporting a small amused smile. He had summoned his feline familiar and was slowly dragging a hand through its fur. 

Caleb moved his eyes from Fjord to him, the corners of his mouth still upturned, and a flash of electricity ran down Essek’s spine at the intensity of the man's gaze. Their shared amusement was such a tiny thing, how was it affecting him so? Of course there had always been a certain tension between him and Caleb and of course he still remembered the spellcasting lessons he had unwisely imparted and the trip to the Lotusden, with the bitterness of the realization that the human would use whatever was between them to exploit Essek for his powers and knowledge. And yet, since this hellish cycle of a day had begun, Essek had noticed that no matter the time or place where it happened, Caleb’s fingers always seemed to find his when they exchanged the Beacon, sometimes with more subtlety, sometimes with less. He still did not know what to make of it.

“Uhm, so, Essek?” Fjord tried again at his side, making Essek realize he had taken entirely too long to answer.

“Right,” he broke eye contact with Caleb and turned back to the warlock. “I am of course first and foremost my Queen’s subject and my every action towards this victory against Obann is dictated by the consideration that I am protecting the Dynasty. The Dynasty which is pouring all of its resources into the war with your Empire and has no forces to spare, lest it leave its capital unguarded.”

Fjord was nodding along, clearly regretting he had asked. 

“I do not doubt the Bright Queen’s wisdom in her hundred lifetimes,” Essek continued, feeling the intensity in his own voice grow. “But she has lost too much of the Luxon and of our people. Were I to explain what is truly going on to her, she would find out about the Beacon and would no doubt be unwilling to part with it, which would not be conducive to our present goals, I would think,” he paused, a sweeping look at the Nein showing him that everyone present was now listening intently. “Also we would be branded enemies to the Dynasty, in your case, and traitor - in mine, for keeping it from her in the first place.” 

“Damn, Essek,” Beauregard croaked. “I mean I thought it’s difficult to keep doing this and keep the truth from everyone but us, but I guess we should’ve realized the magnitude of what you are doing, committing treason for us.” 

He responded with a laugh.

“Thank you for the concern, Beauregard, but I have done worse since the cycle of this day began.”

It was apparently the wrong thing to say, because the members of the Nein shared an indecipherable look among themselves and before Essek could amend that it was not a bother, because in the end, no one would be the wiser, the door opened and Caduceus finally rejoined them, a large tray in hand. 

“What did I miss,” he asked, approaching with a calm smile. Essek could now feel the savory scent coming off the contents of the tray, though he could not recognize the spices.

“Essek’s apparently been committing treason against the Dynasty in order to keep helping us,” Caleb responded, each word sounding measured, as if the man was close to losing his composure. 

What did they want, Essek thought, anger slowly building. Were they not satisfied with what he was doing in this uniquely convoluted situation? 

“Well that’s so nice of you, Essek,” the firbolg responded, sounding like the Skysybil when someone helped her get to her chair, but his eyes when they met Essek’s were understanding and kind, holding something more that Essek could not parse.

Caduceus extended the tray towards him. There were tiny ball-shaped bread pastries stacked onto it, a light waft of steam coming off of them. Still confused, but with his anger subsiding, Essek reluctantly took one and bit into it, the savory mix of mushrooms and spices inside catching him by surprise. Were he less dignified, he would have finished it in the next bite and immediately reached for another, as his stomach reminded him that he had not had anything to eat yet today… or in any version of today, now that he thought about it. He either needed to leave early to go... rob the Conservatory, or the Bright Queen’s missive always arrived before he could even get properly dressed, let alone proceed with a morning meal. 

Jester took a few more minutes to finish her defacing of the table, Essek’s line of sight towards her blocked by Beauregard. Eventually the monk moved and Essek saw that a much smaller part of the table's surface than he expected, considering how long this had taken, had been covered in paint. Jester was apparently just finishing the piece and he watched as it suddenly it seemed to pop out, turning three-dimensional and leaving no trace of paint on the polished wood. It was a small figurine, about three inches high and with humanoid features. He now noticed that that there were about a dozen other similar ones set on the side of the table.

“There,” Jester exclaimed. “I made all of us, plus Obann and his people… I don’t exactly know what a goristro looks like, but I made it big and scary.” She showed Essek a figure that was about 4 inches tall, bulkier than the rest, and with protruding horns. The scale was off, but the attempt was good.

"And here's you," the tiefling added, handing him another figure. It was a pale white and faceless like the rest seemed to be, but it was a good attempt at an imitation of Essek's usual brushed back hairstyle, the mantle that covered his robes and reached all the way to the ground, and the ornate pauldrons he usually preferred. "I wanted to color them all too, but they'll need time to dry," she added sheepishly, throwing a look towards the other painting kit, which Essek presumed was non-magical.

Having apparently just made all of them battle map markers, Jester unrolled the parchment she’d brought and proceeded to sketch out the map of the battlefield itself, consulting Essek for details. Caduceus offered him another pastry, which he, out of a sense of propriety, pretended to only reluctantly accept, secretly savoring the taste. 

* * *

They spent the next several hours planning and playing out scenarios. Essek ran them through the different permutations of the battle he had experienced and, while most of their suggestions to particular scenarios were ones he had heard verbatim already, there were flashes of inspiration and innovation when members of the Nein interacted with parts of the strategy that they had not been a part of in the given version of the battle. An idea began forming in Essek’s mind as he was realizing that the Mighty Nein had many skills and items at their disposal that they did not necessarily resort to unless under the right pressure, no matter how much he questioned them. It seemed that he would need to spend time with each of them individually and find out how to best utilize everything they had to give.

Without the adrenaline of an impending battle helping to tune it out, Essek began feeling the ache in his legs coming more acutely than he’d had in previous iterations of the day and, while it was manageable, he was thankful to be ushered out of the war room and down to the dining hall by Caduceus, who was insistent that the group had done enough planning for the moment and needed a break. 

“Essek?” Caleb said behind him as he reached the stairs leading down, the human putting a gentle hand to his shoulder. The touch startled Essek, making him slightly recoil in surprise, followed by an uncomfortable jolt of pain in his back. “Ah, my apologies,” the other man continued, sheepishly, lifting his hand, before he seemed to notice Essek's discomfort, eyes narrowing. “Are you well?” 

“Of course,” Essek responded curtly, his physical discomfort amplified by that of the present conversation. 

The wizard seemed distrustful, eyes holding Essek’s gaze for another moment, calculating. Then he relented.

“It is simply that you asked me to inform you once the clock had struck seventeen minutes past six.”

“Right, yes, thank you,” Essek tried to amend the situation, turning fully and lifting a hand out from under his cloak before realizing he had no idea what he was reaching for with it. “Thank you, for the information,” he repeated awkwardly, hand retreating. “Our countdown begins.”

They did not have to wait long. The dinner Caduceus had insisted they eat was passed hurriedly and mostly in silence. Too antsy to sit around, everyone returned to the war room and tried to pass the time in half-distracted strategizing. 

Just over an hour later, as members of the Nein had paired off, involved in their own little discussions, while Essek aimlessly plotted battle formations with Jester's markers, he felt a small rumble. Before he could ask the others if they heard it too, he saw the makeshift figures of him and the Nein shaking and beginning to falling over the map. The tremors were growing stronger by the second, dust starting to descend from the ceiling in the next few moments. 

“What the fuck is this?” he heard Beauregard call, turning to see she had moved to the window, looking out. He willed himself to move to her as speedily as he could and looked out too. 

The view was ghastly, the city’s numerous lights were going out by the dozens as buildings shook and people ran outside, trying to avoid falling debris. But the scariest of all was the view above them. Smoky, shadowy tendrils were appearing against Rosohna’s perpetually starry night sky, such a perfect shade of black that they seemed to absorb all the light around. They were crossing and overlapping with each other, beginning to cover the whole celestial expanse. In just a few minutes the sky over Rosohna had turned into an inky black void, as if something had consumed all the stars and the world itself was next. 

He had not realized when the tremors had paused, but they seemed to start anew, reverberating in his chest and ears and Essek realized that they were the result of an echoing sound. A deep, brutal, destructive laughter. Up in the sky, there appeared two enormous pools of grey mist, as if smoke coming off a brazier that had just been extinguished. 

Eyes. They were eyes. 

Each of them was bigger than Exandria’s two moons put together.

“Essek, quickly, the Beacon,” someone was shouting in his ear and pushing the relic into his paralyzed with fear fingers. 

Right. The reset. _ He could stop this _, the small voice at the back of his head was trying to scream at him through the fog of horror. 

“ESSEK!” someone grabbed his head with both hands and turned it to face them and he saw with surprise that it was Beauregard. “You need to reverse this, he is free, you cannot let this happen!”

Next to her Jester was the one trying to get the Beacon into his hands, while everyone else looked stunned and wide-eyed at the light coming through the window, in much the same condition Essek had been. 

With Beauregard still holding his face, her blue gaze keeping him grounded, and Jester’s hands trying to steady his, Essek channeled his power into the Beacon.

* * *

He shot up in bed with a cut-off sob of terror, heart hammering loudly in his chest, and let himself stay there for the next several minutes, palms pressed to his eyes. He had thought the situation grave, that if left to do so, Obann and his disciples would kill the Mighty Nein and go on to weaken Tharizdun’s chains. He had not thought that the battle he was reliving was going to decide the fate of all of Exandria.

All possible plans from the previous afternoon discarded, Essek got up to dress, considering the only thing that mattered now. If he was going against a god he needed an equal measure of power. He needed to think beyond the silly details of the battle with Obann and concern himself with the Beacon.

Just a few minutes later, Essek was in the courtyard of the Marble Tomes Conservatory again, but this time concealed from view with a greater invisibility spell. His current objective could not be achieved just using the privileges of his position, so he had fully leaned into the covertness and deception of thieving. Focusing on remaining unseen had forced him to drop his concentration on the gravitational field that allowed him to move with less physical exertion and he was forced to cross the distance to the entrance on foot. While repeated experience had demonstrated that his pain and physical fatigue worsened during the afternoon and the mobility aid of his magic was necessary during the battle with Obann, this temporal cycle had at least fallen on a day that began with minimal aches and some ability to walk around in the morning. Just what he needed, if he was to have any hope of his current plan succeeding.

His pace steady, but infuriatingly slow in comparison to when he used magic, Essek approached the entrance. The guard there was dozing again and Essek took excessive care not to make a sound or let his robes rustle when he passed them. The guard remained none the wiser and he allowed himself a quiet pause to let out a breath of relief as he entered the main hall of the Conservatory. 

For a place where Essek had spent a significant part of his waking hours over the past several decades, the Conservatory now felt unfamiliar and foreign as he cautiously made his way towards the central staircase ahead. 

Scaling the first story exhausted him more than he had hoped and he had to stop and lean on the wall on the second floor for a good several minutes until his knees and back stopped feeling like every nerve was on fire, as if lit up with one of Caleb’s spells. 

_ Just one more floor to the top _, Essek told himself, taking stock of the hall he was in. This was the place he was most familiar with in the entire conservatory, the section that housed Dunamantic research. Just down the hall to the right were Essek’s own private research chambers, his second home in this city. There was a patrolling guard coming from that direction. 

With the pain having subsided a bit, Essek started ascending the second, and thankfully final, staircase to his destination. He held his breath as he approached the end, where he could already see the two posted guards. This was going to be tricky. 

The guards were thankfully facing to the side so Essek had the split-second needed to execute his plan. He let himself become visible again and, with a rotating hand gesture, manipulated the temporal fields around the two of them, putting both of their consciousness in a looping time bubble meant to simulate the repeating of the same six seconds. This was exerting a significant amount of his powers, but Essek was not planning to stick around too long in this iteration of the day.

The irony of using this spell in his current predicament did not escape him. 

He hobbled up to the top step and past the stunned guards and looked around. The Hall of the Luxon was the centerpiece of the Conservatory, yet open only to select members of the clergy, who dealt with the matters of worship and consecution. Arcane practitioners needed special permission to access the literature stored here because of fears that they would misuse the Luxon’s divine gift for personal empowerment… such as in the case of what Essek was seeking to do right this moment. Dunamantic magic came from the Luxon, but for arcane practitioners to use knowledge of Their divine body to amplify their powers was a perversion and sacrilege that would likely have Essek’s soul condemned and his now single life put to end prematurely. His stomach would have turned just at the thought of committing an act so heinous, but at the moment it was as if there was a vice around Essek’s heart, numbing him to anything but the horror of what he had experienced. There was no other choice. If he was at danger of facing Tharizdun himself, aided only by a remnant of the Luxon, he would use as much of its powers as he could, until the deity Themself came to strike him down. 

The hall was lit in a soft teal light, more blue than the magelights used across the city. When he looked up, he could see the color of the sky and the blurry light of the most prominent stars through the translucent glass of the domed ceiling. The lines where the panels connected were painted in black and Essek knew that although not visible now, when the sun was allowed to shine over Rosohna, the shadow it cast inside this chamber when it was at its highest took the shape of a large dodecahedron. 

The center of the hall was occupied by a circular altar where he knew the Beacons would occasionally be brought for study with the permission of the Bright Queen. Against the wall near Essek’s left stood a pedestal covered by a large open tome that held records of all the consecuted souls and the rebirths they had gone through. Somewhere within those pages he could find his own name...

Right, there was no time for distractions. Essek had about ten minutes until the guards were released from their temporal suspension. He started limping towards the bookshelves that were on the opposite side of the room, unsure of what he was looking for. Pain and discomfort were starting to cloud his consciousness.

Truthfully, this was as far as Essek had planned in the short time span he’d had since waking up. There had to be something in the books here about utilizing the Luxon’s power. Or maybe about the Chained Oblivion and his imprisonment? 

There had to be something, but Essek had no idea where to start his research and he had only a few minutes. Where knowledge failed, he resorted to prayer. 

“Luxon, guide me,” he whispered reverently, swirling his fingers in the gesture needed to summon the small pearl he kept in his pocket dimension. Lifting it in front of his right eye, he uttered the incantation. 

There was always an intangible calming feeling, when one received Fortune’s Favor and Essek let that calmness guide his aching feet, the hand holding the pearl now outstretched in front of him. He made it to the central shelf and let his hand rest at the first tome his eyes had landed on. It looked regular in size and was bound in midnight black leather. Pearl sent back to its place of storage, Essek pulled the book out. The spine was free of adornment, but the cover page carried a silver-lettered title.

“_The Calamity _,” he read in a whisper. 

A voice sounded behind him, chanting an incantation, and the calm of the Luxon’s blessing was replaced by a wash of cold, like ice cracking under his feet and submerging him into the freezing waters of the lake underneath. Essek was familiar with the feeling of the spell he was maintaining being ended forcefully.

“Ah, Thelyss, how I knew you were a damned traitor.” There was undisguised satisfaction in the familiar voice.

“Lythir,” he responded, turning his head to the side to catch the other man’s gaze. “Do you always follow my every step on the off-chance that you find something to use against me, or was this pure luck?” He was aware of the man's tendency to always be on the lookout for the fastest way to ascend the ranks. 

“I was actually sent to find you after your attendant informed the Queen’s messenger that you were not there to receive her urgent missive.” Lythir was standing at the edge of the stairs, hand still raised in the final gesture of the dispelling magic. On his side were the two members of the guard, no longer stunned by Essek’s spell. Two more were standing behind him.

_ Lolth devour me, _Essek thought. He had taken too long.

“Enough nonsense, Thelyss,” the other man continued. “You have shown your true colors now, breaking into the Hall of the Luxon, going after forbidden knowledge. What were you thinking?” 

_ That the Luxon Themself is guiding me in order to save the lives of everyone, including you, you sniveling- _Essek pushed the thought to the back of his mind and considered. This would be a tedious battle, as duels between spellcasters always tended to be. He could overpower Lythir easily, but if the four members of the Aurora Watch got close enough he would be significantly disadvantaged.

He could just not participate. 

Book still in one hand, eyes never leaving Lythir, Essek started chanting the incantation for a teleport. The other man immediately responded with a negating gesture and, prepared for the fraction of a moment he had to respond, Essek drew his other hand sharply from under his cloak to counter it. 

The movement was not calculated against the precariousness of his current physical situation and make a shocking jolt of pain travel down Essek’s spine, making him lose focus. Lythir’s counterspell succeeded and Essek’s teleportation did not take place. 

“Seize him!” Lythir called to the guards, quickly following the order with an immobilizing spell that Essek, in the shock of his failure, could not mentally resist. “I am sure all the prisoners you have been keeping in the dungeons will be so happy to have you as one of them now, Shadowhand,” he called, as the guards wrested the sacred book out of Essek’s paralyzed hand and began chaining him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and kudos are love as usual and you can still find me on tumblr [@aro-hawke](http://aro-hawke.tumblr.com/).


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